


Ball and Chain

by Lulu_The_Real_Slytherpuff



Series: Everything is not as it seems [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Character Study, Depression, M/M, Recovery, References to Depression, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, introspective, supportive friends, unintentional suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-04-14 13:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14136876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulu_The_Real_Slytherpuff/pseuds/Lulu_The_Real_Slytherpuff
Summary: So, here he is. Four hours later, staring at the snow covered concrete below. Imagining himself falling, not for the first time this week.He should probably tell someone about that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 635 words of Auston 'coping'
> 
> \- references to depression, and anxiety  
> \- suicidal thoughts but no action  
> \- bad coping mechanisms

His apartment building is thirty-five stories high.

 

Auston’s condo sits on the tenth floor, there’s no balcony. Instead, Auston finds himself perched on the window ledge, feet dangling precariously over the edge. It’s three in the morning and despite the usually bustling street of Toronto, the world outside is dead. The streets are empty, it’s quiet, and only the occasional car will pass by.

 

He’s not sure why the windows open wide enough for him to fit through. Maybe it’s a Canadian thing? Or his apartment building just wants to fuel his burning desire for the sweet, sweet embrace of death even more so. Either way, one wrong move and Auston’s going to wind up a flat pancake ten stories below, and as tempting as that is, and it really is, his Mom would probably kill him (ha). So here he is, sitting on the edge of a window imagining what it would be like to fall through the air. Imagining what it would be like if he just ended it right here and right now.

 

Relieving.

 

Most likely anyway.

 

White droplets of snow lightly flutter down from the cloudy night sky. The soft flakes fall gently over Auston’s arms, and on the tip of his nose. He shivers at the contact, perhaps it wasn’t his best decision to perch out here with only a thin sleeved shirt protecting him from the cold. It’s a form of torture, he supposes. Sitting on a window ledge ten stories high, his skin exposed to the the chilly breeze and icy snow that leaves his lips blue and chattering and the hair on his arms standing up in an attempt to protect him from it.

 

Auston thinks back to the game earlier tonight. The Shit Show, as he’s been calling it in his head for the past four hours. A loss on home ice sucks on a normal night, but a 4-0 loss to fucking Buffalo of all places, it hits harder than anything. It saps any self-worth he has left in him every time he thinks of every missed shot, every turnover, and the faces of the blue-donned fans in the stands as they realised there was no salvaging the wreckage the game had become.

 

So, here he is. Four hours later, staring at the snow covered concrete below. Imagining himself falling, not for the first time this week. He should probably tell someone about that. About the way his chest constricts with dread every time he has to wake up. About how each second passes in slow motion, taking over his days and forcing him to keep his eyes open when he’d rather just let them shut. For good. Except, Auston’s not sure how he’s supposed to go about telling someone that the reason the bags under his are because the weight on his chest presses down too hard at night and forces him to curl up fully clothed in the cold shower until the weight eases off. It usually doesn’t. Or how sometimes he sits in his living room till 5am, replaying every interview that questions his ability, pits him against Laine and confirms every fear Auston’s ever had.

 

The snowflakes begin to fall heavier and the gentle breeze blows harsher, whipping past Auston so fast he feels himself wobble where he’s sitting. He sighs, finally relenting against the cold, and clambers back in through the window. The apartment is dark inside, just like the thoughts swirling around through his head.  It’s barely any warmer inside and what little warmth there is does nothing to soothe the cold chill that’s settled beyond his bones. The weight in his chest grows heavy, along with Auston’s footsteps. If he listens close enough, sometimes he can hear the ball and chain on his feet dragging mercilessly behind him.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so during my last couple of shifts at work my brain somehow conjured up an entire storyline to continue on from chapter one, so naturally I decided why the hell not. 
> 
> Warnings:   
> \- this chapter focuses heavily on an unintentional suicide attempt. 
> 
> This is set after Auston injured his shoulder in the game against the Islanders. Also, Freddie makes an appearance! 
> 
> Enjoy :)

Auston’s jacked up on painkillers that leave the pain in his shoulder a dull ache, and his mind numb. Why anyone would think to leave Auston at his apartment by himself, high on painkillers is anyone’s guess; it doesn’t seem like a good idea. His mind is surprisingly empty, fleeting thoughts occasionally pushing through the foggy haze. The packet of painkillers sits precariously on the edge of the armchair next to him, taunting him.

 

_Just one more, Auston._

_One more and the pain will go away._

_Wouldn’t it be nice to be free of the pain?_

And Auston would be lying to himself if he didn’t recognise how the painkillers made the hole in his chest a little less empty. How they fogged up his mind and made the usual dark thoughts a little less demeaning, less daunting.

 

“Take one every couple of hours,” the Doctor had said to him.

 

Except there the packet sits mocking him, only one pill missing from the pack of fifty, severe, extra strength painkillers. He pictures the packet growing a pair of arms and legs ,and an angry face that points to the pills, and seems to say to him,

 

_One more, Auston. One more pill and it’ll all go away._

It’s enough that he reaches out towards the packet, fingers shaking in eager and excitement. He pulls the packet open to reveal two silver bubble packets, each with twenty-five pills in. Well, twenty-four in the top packet.

_Just one more_ , Auston thinks to himself. _Just one more to take the edge off._

 

Auston runs his hands across the top packet before lifting it up off the pile. He slides his fingers over to the top left-hand corner and pops the bubble to release the pill. A satisfied tingle runs throughout his body as the bubble makes a small _pop._ And then he’s lifting the pill to his mouth, and grabbing his half empty bottle of blue Gatorade and swallowing it down.

 

It doesn’t make a difference. The dull ache is still heavy in his shoulder, the foggy thoughts are still present, and the packet still sits on the armchair, mocking him.

 

 _Another one won’t hurt him_.

 

*

 

Freddie’s slouched over his laptop on the couch. The apartment is relatively quiet save for the quiet sounds of music playing from the radio speakers.

 

And his phone which is now blaring away.

 

He sighs, running a hand through his ginger hair and groaning as he stands up in search of the offending object. Fuck whoever is calling him at this hour. Freddie’s phone’s buzzing away on the kitchen counter, Auston’s name flashing across the screen. His brow furrows as he picks up the phone and answers it.

 

“Auston?”

 

There’s no reply, instead all Freddie can hear is the slightly laboured breathing coming from Auston’s end.

 

“You okay, buddy?” Freddie tries again.

 

The heavy breaths grow louder and finally Auston answers him.

 

“Fr-Freddie?” Auston’s voice is soft, layered by heavy breaths. Freddie tries to ignore how slurred his name sounds in Auston’s voice.

 

“Matts, what’s wrong?” He asks, pacing around the kitchen and trying to ignore the uneasiness growing in his stomach.

 

“I-I just wanted the pain to stop,” Auston slurs.

 

That’s right, Auston injured his shoulder in third period, Freddie remembers. Except that knowledge doesn’t soothe the uneasiness.

 

“Must be some strong painkillers you’re on bud.”

 

“They’re all gone now,” Auston whispers, his breaths growing heavier.

 

And before Freddie even has time to register what he’s doing, he’s got one foot out the door and the other fumbling with his car keys.

 

“Okay, okay, okay,” He mumbles to himself as he runs out to his car and tries to avoid running into people. “Auston, keep talking to me buddy.”

 

“Freddie?” Auston asks, seemingly ignoring the panic in Freddie’s voice.

 

“Yeah, Matts?”

 

“Think I’m gonna sleep now.”

 

“Auston?”  Auston’s voice goes slack on the line and his breaths become shorter.

 

“Stay awake for me, okay.” Freddie yells into the phone, as he shoves the key into the car and revs the engine.

 

“Auston, talk to me bud!” Freddie yells down the phone once more, but still Auston doesn’t reply.

 

Thank God Auston only lives a few blocks away from Freddie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment and kudos! 
> 
> If you have any suggestions of where you want to see this go, let me know :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I successfully avoided my course work by writing out this chapter. 
> 
> \- Contains several detailed panic attacks.   
> \- Character has a breakdown.   
> \- Fuck me this turned out way more emotional than I planned.

Auston’s apartment is on the tenth floor of a thirty-five storey building. Freddie’s never been more thankful that Auston didn’t go for the penthouse like he was thinking of buying for a while.  He takes the stairs, long limbs running up the steep steps four at a time. Running right up until he bursts through Auston’s door, right into the empty living room.

 

“Auston?” Freddie calls out, but there’s no reply.

 

Freddie sprints throughout the apartment, shoving open all the doors in there until he finally finds Auston.

 

Auston’s lying on his bed, fully clothed. His eyes are closed, and it almost looks as if he’s just having a nap, except for the vomit that drips down his chin and covers the bed covers.  Freddie calls out to Auston as he runs up to him, quickly checking his pulse, which is barely present.

 

“Thank fuck,” He sighs before pulling Auston ungraciously onto his back; there’s not enough time to call an ambulance.

 

*

 

The A&E is almost empty as Freddie sprints into the waiting room, Auston on his back.

 

“He tried to kill himself,” Freddie yells out to someone, anyone who’s listening. The adrenaline coursing through his veins is slowly waning though, and the weight of Auston suddenly crushing his legs, and Freddie collapses to the ground, dropping Auston to the floor.

 

His breath hitches and his sight blurs. He can see doctors and nurses surrounding him, can see them place Auston onto a gurney and wheel him off. Muffled voices shouting words like “overdose”, “suicide attempt”, and “pump his stomach”.

 

Freddie’s face feels hot and he can feel cold vomit trickle down the front of his chest where Auston’s face was buried. There’s a hand on his shoulder and someone kneeling down in front of him, but Freddie can’t see their face. His vision is swimming and the unknown person’s face spinning round and round in front of him like a washing machine.

 

He lurches forward, and releases the contents of his stomach across the waiting room floor and down the front of his shirt.

 

*****

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

 

Auston wakes up to the sound of high-pitched beeps and gentle snores from somewhere in what seems to be a hospital room. His head feels light and his stomach feels particularly sore. Auston tries to think back to what he last remembers.

 

Right, sandwiched between two Islanders. But he was already treated for his shoulder, wasn’t he?

 

“Auston?” A tired voice yawns from the corner of the room and Auston whips his head around to see a familiar ginger goalie, slouched in a plastic chair in the corner. “You’re awake?”

 

“What the hell happened Freddie?”

 

Freddie sighs, and rubs the back of his neck. Auston takes a moment to study him. He’s got purple bags underneath his eyes, his hair looks like he stuck his finger in an electricity socket and he’s wearing scrubs instead of his usual clothing.

 

“Fred?” Auston asks again, and Freddie squirms in his seat.

 

“You OD’d Aus.”

 

Bile rises up in Auston’s throat, quickly replaced by white hot anger.

 

“That’s not something to fucking joke about Fred,” Auston narrows his eyes at Freddie, but Freddie doesn’t move his gaze. “What the fuck actually happened?”

 

“You fucking OD’d on painkillers,” Freddie says, gaze unwavering and voice monotone. “Fucking suicide attempt.”

 

“I-I wouldn’t do something like that.”

 

“But you did, Aus,” Freddie says, scooting closer to Auston.

 

“N-no I fucking wouldn’t, what the fuck!” Auston pulls himself away from Freddie, and furiously wipes the tears leaking from his eyes. “You’re fucking lying!”

 

Auston feels his breath get heavier, anger and uneasiness flaring up in his stomach as flashes of the painkillers, and the vomit, and the phone call to Freddie spring into his mind.

 

 

_I just wanted the pain to stop._

_They’re all gone now._

_Think I’m gonna sleep now._

 

“Auston?”

 

And suddenly, he feels Freddie pulling his hands away from his eyes, and pulling him into a deep hug.

 

“Aus, please,” Freddie whispers in his ear. “Don’t freak out.”

 

And then he’s gripping onto Freddie, holding onto him tightly. Loud, angry sobs escaping from his mouth, and wracking through his entire body, and tears staining the pale blue scrubs on Freddie. And Freddie’s patting his back and shushing gently in his ear.

 

“You’re okay buddy. We’ll get through this,” Freddie says, pulling back from the hug once Auston calms down enough that his loud sobs have settled to soft tears rolling down his face.

 

Freddie leans forward with some tissue and gently wipes the tears from underneath Auston’s eyes.

 

“You and me buddy, we’ll get through this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, constructive criticism is always welcome and much appreciated :)
> 
> Hey, you all should totally come visit me on tumblr @hit-em-with-the-fourr (totally don't use it for shitposting at all :) )


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of short but I really wanted to get a new chapter out before the end of the decade. 
> 
> More of a filler chapter here. Vaguely fluffy. Hand waving of how hospitals work because I'm not a doctor.

The hospital released him three days ago. The Leafs have just started a series of away games and Auston’s stuck at home with a fucked up shoulder and a stomach sore from being pumped. Because he fucking tried to kill himself while he was high on painkillers.

 

Auston doesn’t remember much of what happened that night or the following day. All he knows is that he owes Freddie at least a case of beer or something for saving his life - oh and that Freddie now has an insight into how fucked up Auston’s mind truly is. The hospital had released him in the late afternoon, Auston had forced the doctors to sign an NDA and only Freddie is currently aware of the ‘incident’. Which is why he’s home alone instead of being chaperoned (read: babysat by some old fart).

 

He’s perched on the window ledge when his phone buzzes in his hand.

 

Freddie.

 

_Hey man, just checking in with you. Everything good?_

Auston stifles the small smile that comes to his face. The texts are something the Freddie’s been doing ever since the hospital released him. To any other person the constant ‘are you ok?’ texts would have been frustrating but Auston’s waited so long for someone to notice that he’s not fine that Freddie’s concern wraps around his like a warm blanket, and makes the ten storey drop below look less enticing.

 

**_I’m ok. Just bummed out bc of my shoulder._ **

****

He’s expecting another text to buzz through when the phone starts ringing instead. He answers it straight away, Freddie’s soft voice immediately pouring through the speakers.

 

“You know the longer you focus on your shoulder the longer it’ll take to heal, right?” Freddie says, voice low.

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“No, I’m serious!”

 

“You sit on a throne of lies,” Auston says, trying to keep the smile from his voice.

 

“I’m the king of them!” Freddie replies, laughter tinkling in his voice.

 

“You know I’m serious when I say that you should try and focus on something that makes you happy right?” Freddie says, his voice growing serious.

 

“Yeah, I’m trying.”

 

“Promise me you’ll do at least one thing this week that puts a smile on your face?”

 

“I promise Freddie.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt really bad about the 400 word chapter before that I literally sat down and wrote 1184 words in the middle of my lecture! 
> 
> Hopefully you all enjoy it. 
> 
> Warning:   
> \- Character goes through a detailed depressive episode.

*****

Auston tries. He really, really does. Except the covers sit heavy on his chest and Auston can’t find the energy within himself to even sit up in his bed. It’s been two days since Auston last picked up his phone, and he’s long grown used to the ever present buzzing of his phone on the bedside cabinet.

 

Freddie must be going out of his mind.

 

And Auston feels guilty. He really, really does. So guilty that if he had the energy, a white hot anger would be raging inside his belly and coursing through his veins. As it is, he just lies in bed, curled up under the covers, eyes closed but unable to let himself fall asleep. Instead, he fixates on the noise of the buzzing phone and forces himself to imagine how disappointed Freddie is that Auston couldn’t do the one thing Freddie asked him to.

 

*

 

“Auston?” Freddie’s soft voice echoes around Auston’s cold bedroom. The curtains are drawn and Auston’s still holed up underneath his bedroom covers, face towards the window instead of Freddie.

 

 He doesn’t reply.

 

Freddie’s footsteps are gentle, and the bed dips ever so slightly as he sits down on the edge. Auston wishes he really wouldn’t do that. Still, he makes no move to tell Freddie to fuck off. Instead choosing to keep his eyes closed and his body as stiff as a board.

 

“Do you wanna talk about it buddy?” Freddie asks as he pushes a hand through Auston’s hair, playing with the greasy brown strands. He must smell awful; he hasn’t had a shower in four days.

 

Auston makes no move, no attempt to answer Freddie.

 

“We miss having you out there with us.” Freddie says, sighing, and slowly shuffling underneath the covers, tucking his arm around Auston and pulling him close.

 

Freddie’s body is warm, and he smells like lynx deodorant and hockey. Auston’s body subconsciously moves in to absorb the warmth, and he exhales a content sigh as Freddie wraps his arms tighter around Auston, and proceeds to tell him about the Leafs locker room antics in a gentle voice that tingles Auston’s ears.

 

*

 

He wakes to an empty bed and the smell of pancakes that flow throughout his apartment. If Auston was normal, he’d be running out there and inhaling them as soon as he realised that’s what the smell was. But Auston’s not normal, he’s fucked up inside, and so he closes his eyes and buries himself back underneath the duvet. There’s a knock on the door and Freddie’s voice rings throughout the room.

 

“I made Pancakes for us,” He says. “You really need to eat something.”

 

Auston pointedly ignores him, cocooning himself further under the covers. He hears Freddie sigh and leave the room. He didn’t think Freddie would give up that easily.

 

He clearly thought wrong when not even thirty seconds later the scent of pancakes grows stronger and it confuses Auston until he hears Freddie walk back into the room, and sit on the edge of his bed.

 

“You need to eat something Aus.”

 

“m’not hungry.” Auston slurs out, too exhausted to even put effort into speaking.

 

“You’re going to eat something Auston, and you’re going to have a shower, and then I’m taking you to the rink to see a trainer about your shoulder,” Freddie says, rubbing his hand through Auston’s greasy hair.

 

“No.”

 

“Please? If you don’t, I’m going to have to tell a trainer or Babs about this, and about the OD,” and that’s a new low for Freddie.

 

He doesn’t want the trainers to know about this, to know how he becomes so exhausted from life that he can’t even bring himself to brush his teeth, have a shower or even feed himself a decent meal. A stray tear leaks from his eye and he pushes himself up, grabbing the stack of pancakes from Freddie’s hands and avoiding Freddie’s watchful gaze.

 

The smell of pancakes makes his stomach queasy and he almost gags as he forcefully cuts a slice and brings it to his mouth. It’s cold, sweet and covered in maple syrup. Auston cries the whole time he eats it, his stomach threatening to bring the whole thing back up. He refuses to meet Freddie’s gaze the whole time he forces the thing down it, but he can sense the guilt and worry that’s emanating from Freddie the entire time.

 

When he finally finishes the pancake, he’s a sobbing mess. Freddie’s gently patting him on the back and then he slowly pulls Auston to his feet and wordlessly leads him to the bathroom. From there he leans into the shower and twist the knob to half way between the hot and cold temp. Just how Auston likes it. Then he brings his fingers to the hem of Auston’s shirt and pulls it gently over Auston’s head and tosses it on the ground next to him. He gestures for Auston to pull his pants off, and then leads him into the shower, pulling his own clothes off as he does so.

 

The water trickles down Auston’s back as he stands still underneath the shower head. Freddie hops in next to him, somehow they both fit despite the small size of it. He unhooks the shower head and runs the water through Auston’s hair before hooking it back up and lathering Auston’s head with shampoo. Freddie’s fingers are gentle and soft as he massages the shampoo through Auston’s hair, washing away four days of grime and grease. He unhooks the shower head again, and runs the water through his hair to wash out the shampoo. The water spurts closely to his head and it tickles his scalp.

 

Auston keeps his eyes closed and focuses on the movements of Freddie behind him. The way he leans down to pick up the loafer, the noise of the bottle as he squeezes the shower gel onto it, and the soft, circular motions as Freddie scrubs the dirt and dried sweat off his body. Finally, Freddie leans over Auston and switches the water off, then he tugs Auston’s hand and pulls him out of the shower, holding out a clean towel.

 

Auston’s stands completely still as Freddie uses the towel to dry the water off him, stands still as he scrubs the towel through his clean, brown hair until it’s just barely damp. Then Freddie dries himself off and pulls his own clothes on before grabbing hold of Auston’s hand again and leading him back into the bedroom. Auston sits back down on the bed, naked, whilst Freddie rummages through the drawers, pulling out a white t-shirt, black sweatpants and a pair of underwear and socks. And slowly he helps Auston get dresses. Underwear and socks first, then the sweatpants and finally the white t-shirt.

 

He’s leading him out the door when he stops, abruptly.

 

“One more thing,” Freddie says, turning around and grabbing something blue off the couch.

 

It’s his hoodie.

 

“Arms up,” Freddie says, gesturing. Auston complies and Freddie pulls the hoodie over Auston’s head and then fixes up Auston’s messy hair.

 

“You ready, bud?”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, constructive criticism is always welcome and much appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, bit of a short chapter but it's leading up to a hell of an angsty chapter 7. 
> 
> One might say this chapter is the calm before the storm... guess we'll find out ;)

*

Auston’s silent the entire car journey to the training facility, eyes blank staring out the window and fingers idly playing with a frayed hem on Freddie’s hoodie. Freddie keeps one eye on Auston and the other on the road. When they finally make it to the facility, Babs and the Leafs doctor both seem surprised that he’s there with Auston.  He doesn’t come up with an excuse, instead nodding at Babs and making his way over to the gym to get some cardio in while he waits for Auston.

 

He runs hard and fast on the treadmill, running till the back of his throat burns, and his calves ache. The image of Auston lying motionless on his bed burned into Freddie’s mind. He runs harder, faster. The purple eye bags under Auston’s eyes grow heavier, his smile withers away completely and;

 

And Coach is standing in front of him, mouth moving with words Freddie can’t hear. Slowly, his muffles voice grows louder.

 

“Is everything okay, Freddie?” Babcock says as Freddie lows the treadmill to a stop and grabs the towel hanging on the handle to wipe the sweat off his face.

 

“Yeah, everything’s great Coach,” Freddie says, hoping Babs doesn’t pick up on the lie.

 

If he does, he doesn’t mention it. Instead he tells Freddie that Auston’s been cleared for non-contact practice, and that he’s waiting for him outside.

 

“And Freddie?” Babs says, grabbing Freddie’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself.”

 

*

 

By the time Auston’s been cleared for contact and is heading out to play his first game since the injury, Auston hasn’t been alone in his apartment. Freddie taking up residence in the guest room, although he slides into Auston’s bed more often than not. Somehow knowing when the weight in Auston’s chest grows so heavy it forces Auston to lie on his back, forcing himself to breathe, to close his eyes and to imagine a deep drop below him. On those nights, Freddie crawls in next to Auston, pulls him into his chest and lulls Auston to sleep with his steady breaths. And Auston wants nothing more than to push Freddie away, to tell him to fuck off because Auston isn’t weak. He’s not sick. He doesn’t need Freddie’s help.

 

Except…

 

Except deep down Auston knows the only reason he’s able to function normally is because of Freddie. So he stays curled up in Freddie’s arms, weight easing in his chest and hating himself further for relying on someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always constructive criticism is always welcome and much appreciated. 
> 
> Seriously, be brutal with it, I love it when people tear my work to pieces (is that a kink?) it really helps me improve the content I give to you guys. Or if you don't wanna do that, please leave a comment anyway, I'd really love to know your thoughts and I'm dead serious when I say comments really do motivate authors to keep going with their works (or maybe that's just me being an attention seeker, idk). To be fair, it is like 3am in the morning so my thought process isn't exactly coherent at the minute - also I'm having a moment of 'I'm a fucking idiot' because I narrowly missed out on getting a high distinction on my uni assessment because I didn't read the assessment piece properly and uploaded a couple things late which dragged my otherwise perfect grade down by two whole levels (hi, unit coordinator, can we please make the guidelines more fUckIng clear next time?)
> 
> OKay, I think I'm done unloading my issues on here instead of an actual therapist...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, 
> 
> just a warning before you read this chapter:
> 
> There is an incredibly detailed depressive episode in this, which involves a severe anxiety attack and a suicide attempt. Please, please, please don't read this chapter if those things might trigger you. I really just want to make sure you're all aware before you get stuck since I really don't want to trigger anyone. 
> 
> With that being said, here's chapter 7.

*

 

 

Things are going well for Auston. He’s scoring more than he ever has, somehow managing to capitalise on almost every scoring chance he gets, his chest feels lighter than it has in months and for the first time in god knows how long, he feels genuinely happy. It’s a little disconcerting to Auston at first, feeling happy is something that doesn’t come naturally to him. He’s talkative to the boys, joking around and waking up before him alarm clock sets off, wide awake and fixing himself a healthy breakfast. It goes on for weeks, and if the boys notice the difference in Auston’s mood, they don’t say anything.

 

“You’re looking happier,” Freddie says to him on the first morning Auston wakes up before him, singing along to Disney songs while frying some eggs at 6am.

 

As everything with Auston, the happiness doesn’t last forever. It’s something that Auston usually works for, which is why he feels a strange sense of relief when the heavy feeling in his chest returns. The anxiety returning home from its short vacation and settling back into its home in Auston’s chest. He feels guilty for finding some sense of relief and familiarity in the numbness, and Auston finds himself back on the window ledge for the first time since the ‘incident’. The ten storey drop beckoning him to let go and jump.

 

The ledge is where Freddie finds him several hours later. Shivering in a short sleeved shirt, staring ahead, the tears dripping down his cheeks seemingly unnoticed. Freddie doesn’t say anything to Auston, instead he pulls himself out the window and perches himself next to Auston, holding a blanket in his arms which he wraps around Auston’s shoulders. Then Freddie wraps his arms around Auston and pulls him in close, fingers gently lacing into Auston’s and pressing a kiss in Auston’s hair.

 

They sit like that for hours; silent tears falling from Auston’s eyes and the gentle, soothing presence of Freddie. Freddie doesn’t move, even when he must be freezing and his body must be numb from sitting on a window ledge not built to hold two grown hockey players. Auston feels Freddie shuffle slightly and feels his heart break ever so slightly, he’s going back inside.

 

Except he’s not.

 

Instead, Freddie shuffles closer to Auston, close enough that his face presses next to Auston’s and he can feel Freddie’s hot breath near his ear.

 

“Talk to me, Aus.” he says, voice barely a whisper.

 

Normally Auston would lie, say no or blow up. He’s supposed to be a hero, supposed to be this emotionless robot who’s good enough for hockey and that’s it. But the thing is, this is Freddie. Freddie who carried Auston to the hospital, who stayed with him through all this fucked up shit; Freddie who listens to Auston even when he doesn’t want to be heard, the person who sits with him on this fucking ledge and shoulders Auston’s fear with him despite not ever being asked to.  And its Freddie who pulls Auston apart and fixes him whole again.

 

“I want to die,” there’s no gentle way to put it, and Auston’s voice cracks, and the tears stream faster as the words come out. Freddie says nothing, he doesn’t need to. Choosing to pull Auston even closer.

 

“I just – I just feel so numb all the time and if I’m not numb then I’m really fucking sad, and it feels like there’s this fucking weight on my chest and I can’t fucking deal with it. I-I see the cars on the street and I want to jump in front of one, I’m standing on a ledge and I want to jump off it. If I block a hard shot I think to myself ‘at least I felt something’. I-I just – “

 

Auston takes a deep breath,

“The only thing that’s stopping me from jumping off this ledge right now is you.”

 

He cracks, loud, echoing tears spill and his breath comes out in thick, raspy wheezes. His body tingles with numbness, his mind blanking out. Body shaking and Auston’s pretty sure that’s his voice that’s choking on broken words that shatter the silent night with wishes for death.

 

He can feel Freddie trying to drag Auston up to pull him back inside, but Auston can feel himself resisting.

 

“Let me fucking go,” he hears himself screaming to Freddie.

 

And Freddie’s trying to pull him back but Auston’s resisting. Why is he resisting? Freddie’s trying to help him and Auston’s resisting. He wants to die. Why won’t Freddie let him fucking die? Freddie’s pulling him back, but Auston won’t let him, refuses to let him, why won’t his body cooperate with Freddie? Freddie’s pulling him back.

 

“Please Auston.”

 

Freddie’s trying to help him, and Auston,

 

And Auston’s body gives in, allowing Freddie to pull him back through the window. He can still hear himself choking on his own breath, choking on his own words as Freddie hugs Auston in an iron tight grip. Are they his own tears he can feel on Freddie’s face?

 

“You fucking asshole,” Freddie whispers, clutching Auston tighter as Auston dissolves into a heap of tears in front of him.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so-“

 

“Sshh…” Freddie shushes Auston, rocking them both back and forth underneath the window ledge. “We need to talk to someone about this Aus.”

 

“No,” Auston shakes his head in Freddie’s chest.

 

“Please Auston, I just watched you nearly throw yourself of a ledge.” Freddie whispers, shakily. “I’m scared Auston.”

 

“I can’t Freddie.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“They’ll try to make me happy.”

 

“W-what’s wrong with that?”

 

“I don’t know how to be happy,” Auston finally chokes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was intense! Thank you to everyone whose been reading along so far, and as always constructive criticism is always welcome and much appreciated :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is super short but I wanted to get something out. 
> 
> I apologise for the long wait, I've had lots of assessment due this week and I also flew out to the UK to visit my family who I've not seen for 11 years. So that was a good 25 hours on a plane and several days worth of jet lag.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter:  
> \- Panic attack coming up
> 
> Enjoy

Freddie can’t move, won’t move. He doesn’t trust himself enough to tear his eyes away from Auston. Auston whose curled up in his lap, comforter wrapped around him and tear tracks staining his face. Freddie’s hands are still shaking as he runs his fingers through Auston’s hair; he needs to tell someone about this. He knows he does. The blunt truth of it all is that Freddie can’t deal with this by himself, and he can’t betray Auston’s trust. Or he doesn’t want to, rather. He feels unshed tears prickle the back of his eyes and the familiar tug of fear and guilt tingle throughout his body.

 

Auston stirs momentarily in his sleep, forcing Freddie to break out of his thoughts. There’s a hint of a smile etched into his face and in the moment Freddie decides he can’t do this. He can’t risk breaking Auston’s trust.

 

*

 

Things go well for the first few weeks after the breakdown. Auston’s back to his usual self, happy, smiling but not too much. Just his usual, chill self. Except Freddie can see through the cracks. He sees the way Auston’s smile drops when he thinks no one is looking, the way his laugh comes out sounding way too forced, and how, in the dead of night, Auston’s shoulders shake in the bed next to him, hands muffling strangled sobs.

 

*

 

Things go well until one day they don’t. Auston seemed so happy that he almost had Freddie fooled had he not known how to read the signs. It happens in the middle of a closed practice; a simple two pass horseshoe drill designed to improve passes. Auston’s paired up with Willy, skating up fast with the puck, he turns the corner, releases the puck from his stick straight to Willy’s tape,

 

“Nice Matts!” Willy yells as he sets off skating from the corner, puck springing back from his stick and back to Auston.

 

Except the pass is a little off, missing Auston’s stick by a hair. A simple mistake, really. One that happens far more than it should but that’s why they do these drills. As boring as they are. One minute Auston’s focused on the drill and the next he’s doubled over, loud sobs escaping his mouth and echoing around the practice rink. Babcock blows the whistle, and Freddie immediately sprints over, dropping his stick and gloves.

 

“Aus, c’mon.” Freddie says, pulling Auston underneath his arm. “Let’s go sit down, okay.”

 

He’s not sure Auston can hear him properly, too busy hiccupping and trying to wipe the tears from his eyes that keep on flowing. The action clearly frustrating him and causing more tears to fall from his eyes. Freddie keeps his head down and avoids the boys’ eyes as he skates Auston to the bench and back to the locker room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also had this really weird idea that includes Mitch somehow getting sent back in time to England 1938 and ended up on the Mallard Express on the day when it set the record for the fastest steamway locomotive <\- like I said, really weird idea buuuuuutttt would anyone be interested in something like that?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left my 15 minute presentation to the last minute to finish this chapter off and I'm knid of regretting that decision... I'm currently bullshitting my way through a 2000 word analysis of the use of tension of mystery in Sonya Hartnett's 'Sleeping Dogs'. "Study creative writing at university" they said. "It'll be fun" they said... 
> 
> Anyhoo, please be warned that this chpater does contain another panic episode.
> 
> I never want anyone to be triggered so if you do feel as though this stuff might trigger you then click away.
> 
> And if you stuck with me this far, thank you so much! You're the best!

*

 

_Fuck._

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

Auston’s head feels like lead, his eyes ache from the tears that won’t fucking stop, and he can’t breathe. How the fuck could he miss that pass? Better yet, why does it feel like the world has ended over some failed pass?

 

Auston feels himself being guided off the rink by someone, Freddie? He can hear Freddie’s soft voice whisper in his ears. Except the voice is muffled and Auston can’t make out what he’s saying over his sobs. It’s like there’s a sharp pain in his chest and a voice whispering in his head,

 

_Die._

_Just die you fucking failure._

His wrists itch, and ache and before he can really process what he’s doing, Auston feels his sharp nails scratch into his wrist. Desperate for some sort of feeling that isn’t failure, or hatred. He’s still fucking crying and once again he brings his hands up to furiously wipe at his eyes.

 

_I want die._

_Please let me fucking die._

_Please, I want to die._

Hands are pulling harshly at his hair. Auston can’t tell whether it’s his own or not. Until someone’s gripping his hands tightly and down on their knees in front of him.

 

“Breathe with me Auston,” the voice says. “In, one, two, three, and out…”

 

The voice keeps going and Auston tries his hardest to breathe with it.

 

_In._

_One._

_Two._

_Three_

_Out._

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

 

 

Finally, his vision clears and his breath catches up with him. Freddie’s crouched down awkwardly in front of him, still in his goalie gear. His hazel eyes wide with worry and concern. Freddie’s got Auston’s hands gripped tightly in his own and and his eyes are searching Auston’s, the unspoken question hanging loudly in the air.

 

_Are you okay?_

He’s really not. Auston realises when he finally notices Babcock and several concerned trainers surrounding him.

 

*

 

The trainers leave him with a glass of water, and Babcock. They try to force Freddie back onto the rink but Freddie won’t budge and Auston refuses to let go of the goalie’s hand.

 

Babcock takes a seat in the stall next to Auston, pops his hand on Auston’s knee and watches him with a gentle, concerned gaze.

 

“Talk to me, son.”

 

And the thing about Babcock, is that when he speaks you feel less afraid of sharing those big, dark secrets.  So looking into Babcock’s eyes, for the first time since Freddie, Auston feels safe enough to tell someone. To tell him about the sleepless nights, the tears and the burning self-loathing that lies deep within him and rears its ugly head whenever things are feeling like they’re starting to go well for Auston. And, through thick tears and hiccupping breath, he tells Babcock about the pills, the night in hospital and the ledge that he almost threw himself off.

 

Auston struggles to meet Babcock’s eyes, struggles to form words with his mouth but Freddie’s presence makes it easier. Stops his sweaty hands from shaking, soothes the constant ache in his heart and when Auston finally gains the courage to look up, Freddie places his hand on his shoulder, and Babcock lowers his voice and squeezes his knee.

 

“We’ll get through this, son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism in always welcome and much appreciated :)
> 
> Seriously, as an author I love hearing feedback whether it be postive or negative. It lets me know if my writing is good and how I can improve it to give you guys a much more enjoyable reading experience.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, long time no see! I apologise for the wait, I had a huge assessment piece due for university and I may have gone to a party and got 'a bit' drunk on the weekend. But none-the-less I'm here now with 1044 words of which I don't need to use warnings for! (at least I don't think I do anyway, let me know if you find something). 
> 
> Also, I have to get this out because I'm super excited about it - I just got a high distinction on my memoir piece about coming out to my mum - like what the fuck? I wrote that shit at the last possible second (Okay, I'm done bragging, please enjoy this chapter :) )

It takes hours of sitting in Babcock’s office talking through different options for a decision to finally be made about Auston’s condition. Freddie sits with Auston the entire time, gripping his hand and gently stroking the palm of Auston’s hand in an attempt to calm the younger man down. Freddie watches the brown-haired boy’s face stare at Coach with a monotonous expression, only his brown eyes betraying the look on his face – with their shine of unshed tears.

 

“I think the best option is for you to see a psychiatrist; I know you don’t want to take a break from hockey but I want you to rest for a few days while we put a support system in place.” Babcock says, voice gentle but very matter-of-factly. “I know Freddie’s been a huge help to you but the more support you have the better your chance is at recovering.”

 

Freddie watches as Auston nods next to him, and he squeezes his hand.

 

“You got this, bud.” Freddie whispers, nudging Auston gently.

 

*

 

Auston’s apartment is in complete darkness by the time they arrive back. It’s so quiet that a pin could drop and it would sound like a boulder. Freddie closes the door behind him and switches the hallway light on. He goes to move forward but Auston is blocking him from going any further, staring at Freddie with wide eyes and shuffling side-to-side on his feet.

 

“Auston?”

 

Auston doesn’t say anything, instead he leans up into Freddie and places a chaste kiss on his lips. Auston’s lips are slightly chapped, and his mouth tastes like spearmint gum and the roast chicken sandwich from lunch. Freddie tries to deepen the kiss but Auston pulls back.

 

“Thank you, Freddie.” he whispers, breathlessly. “You’re amazing.”

 

And then he’s walking off down the corridor and into the bedroom at the of the hallway. Freddie’s stuck still, frozen. He brings a finger up to his lips, and presses them against where Auston’s lips had just been. The taste of spearmint and chicken still lingering on them.

 

“ _You’re_ amazing, Auston.” Freddie whispers to himself, before following Auston down the hallway.

 

*

 

Freddie wakes to the sound of Auston’s gentle snores beside him. He shuffles over onto his side and watches the soft rise and fall of Auston’s chest. Auston’s face is relaxed into a small half smile, and Freddie can’t help but reach a hand out and stroke the younger man’s face. He’s so peaceful when he’s sleeping, and it’s all Freddie can do to wish he’ll see the same peace when he’s awake too.

 

*

 

The next time Freddie wakes up, it’s not because of Auston. The bed is surprisingly empty and the apartment is devoid of noise. Worry explodes in Freddie’s chest and he finds himself jumping up from the bed, and grabbing his phone. He’s got the phone to his ear and slamming doors from room to room as he searches for Auston.

 

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” Freddie whispers frantically into the phone only to hear the dial tone whispering back to him.

 

“Hi,” Auston says, finally.

 

“Auston, where are – “

 

“-this is Auston, I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now-“

 

Freddie slams the phone down, and quickly pulls Mitch up from his contacts.

 

The phone rings.

 

Once.

 

Twice.

 

“Hey, FredEx.” Mitch says, cheerily into the phone.

 

“Auston, have you seen him?”

 

There’s a slight pause before Mitch answers again.

 

“Yeah, he’s at mine. Did something happen between you two? Was it something to do with what happened at training?” Mitch babbles into the phone.

 

Relief flood Freddie’s chest. Auston’s safe.

 

“Is he okay, Mitchy?”

 

“He’s fine, I’m just kicking his ass at Fortnite.”

 

 

*

 

Auston doesn’t know what he was thinking when he kissed Freddie. He just remembers staring at Freddie’s chapped lips and surging forward brain never catching up to his body. He remembers the taste of sweet lemon and coffee, and Freddie’s confused expression as Auston caught his bearings.

 

“You’re amazing, Freddie.” he’d said to him. Great, now Freddie will probably hate him.

 

*

 

Auston finds himself awake in the early hours of the morning, Freddie sleeping next to him again, shrouding him in warmth and soft snores coming from his lips. Auston leans up onto his elbow, watching the lines in Freddie’s face smooth as he sleeps. He needs to get out, needs to have a moment to breath for just a moment. He leans in and pecks Freddie’s sleeps gently, before sliding out the bed as silently as he can, and quietly throwing on a jeans and t-shirt.

 

_Hey man, I know its early but can I come over ?_

He types into messenger, foot tapping impatiently as he waits for Mitch to reply. Finally, Mitch’s face pops up onto the screen.

 

**_Yeah sure_ **

****

*

 

“Is everything okay, Aus?” Mitch says as soon as he opens the door.

 

Auston can only shake his head at Mitch’s concerned face as he makes his way into Mitch’s apartment.

“Come here, dude.” Mitch opens his arms wide and pulls Auston into a hug, and who is Auston to refuse one of Mitchy’s hugs.

 

They stay like that for a while before Mitch steers him into the living room and onto the couch before rushing into the kitchen. Not even two minutes later, he’s walking back through with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate covered with whipped cream.

 

“That’s not in our diet plan.” Auston says, smiling as he accepts the drink from Mitch.

 

“I think we’re long overdue for a DMC, Aus.” Mitch says, pointedly as he curls up in the corner of the couch. “Talk to me, Aus.”

 

“I kissed Freddie last night.”

 

Mitch nods, and waits for Auston to keep going.

 

“You know how I-uh- at training?”

 

“Yeah, that was hard to watch man.”

 

“Well, Freddie’s been helping me out with stuff and I just haven’t been feeling happy lately and Freddie.” Auston breathes deeply. “Freddie’s been my rock and I think I just ruined it when I kissed him. What if he hates me Mitchy? What if I just ruined the one thing that actually makes me happy?”

 

Mitch leans over and gently pats Auston’s knee and pulls him into a hug.

 

“Then Freddie’s a damn fool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is always welcome and much appreciated.
> 
> What do you guys think so far?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, it's been a while. Sorry about that guys. Promise I've not forgotten about this story, university's been a bitch for the past month by giving me assignments and exams (ugh, who do they think they are?) 
> 
> No warnings for this chapter.  
> Brief mentions of anxiety but nothing that should be triggering (although let me know if it is and I'll update the warning)
> 
> Enjoy :)

 

*

 

He wakes in the middle of the night; cold, sweaty and alone in the darkness of Mitch’s guest bedroom. Auston tries to keep his sobs quiet as a wave of weight crushes over him and pins him down to the hard, unfamiliar mattress. His breath gets caught in his throat and this is the part where Freddie come into his bedroom, lie in the bed next to him and wrap his arms around him.

 

But Freddie’s not here.

 

And Mitch is asleep in the room across the hall, his loud snores echoing down the hallway. So Auston curls himself up into a ball underneath the scratchy covers and hopes that the pounding in his chest will ease and that sleep will overcome his body.

 

*

 

The therapist sits across from him; her pen scribbling words onto a notepad and the occasional quizzical gaze from her as she eyes him over the pad. He hasn’t said a word since he stepped into her office; the anxiety that tingles throughout him forcing his mouth shut and the words he wants to say are stuck in his throat.

 

Dr Jean Reinhart is nicer than Auston thought she’d be. Patient and seemingly understanding of the way he can’t get the words out; and insistent that he call her Jean instead of Dr Reinhart.

 

“I promise it gets easier after the first session.” she says. “How about a cup of tea to ease us into it?”

 

Jean stands up from the big pink armchair and makes her way over to the small kitchenette, pulling out to tea cups and pouring a fresh kettle of tea into them. She comes back with the two cups and places his on the coffee table when she sees his shaking hands.

 

They sit in silence for nearly five minutes before Auston can finally stop his hands from shaking so much, that he can finally grab the cup of tea from off the table and take a sip, muttering a quiet “thanks.”

 

An instant calm washes over Auston as soon as he downs the warm liquid. Jean smiles and crosses her legs.

 

“Are you ready to give this a try, Auston?” Jean says, warmly.

 

“I-I think so.”

 

*

 

Forty minutes later and Auston’s wiping tears from his eyes and feeling lighter than he has in weeks. Maybe not quite as good as he did when he was with Freddie, but Jean is a pretty decent substitute in Freddie’s absence.

 

“I think one session a week should be enough. I have a feeling prescribing you a week off will more than likely make it worse so instead I’m tasking you to make a list of all the things that have made you laugh or smile during the day, okay?”

 

Auston nods, “okay.”

 

*

List One (Tuesday)

  1. _Freddie posted a photo in IG that made me smile._
  2. _Mitch set fire to the ramen noodles (idk how he managed it)._
  3. _Freddie had a 50 save game._
  4. _A butterfly landed on my shoulder._
  5. _Marty told a funny joke that had the entire locker room on the floor in tears._
  6. _Freddie couldn’t get up from the floor after tangling himself in all his gear from laughing._



List Two (Wednesday)

  1. _Willy and Zach argued over whether or not apple pie was healthy._
  2. _Someone pranked Freddie._
  3. _Freddie smiled at me._
  4. _Mitch tried to do an impersonation of Babcock impersonating Britney Spears in the locker room. Babcock was behind him the entire time. Bag skates for days._



List Three (Thursday)

  1. _Shut out win._
  2. _Naz unironically listens to the Spice Girls._
  3. _Freddie asked to borrow some of my stick tape._
  4. _Mom rang._
  5. _I got a free movie ticket._
  6. _A dog ran over to me and I pet it._
  7. _Someone left a note in my stall and I think its Freddie._
  8. _Mitch dropped his phone in the toilet._



*

 

_Auston,_

_I hate that I’ve hurt your feelings._

_Friends again?_

*

 

Auston’s in the carpark of the ACC heading home after a long game, and excited for a chance to finally rest when Freddie comes up behind him and grabs his hand.

 

“Hey, Auston?” he says, pulling Auston to a stop.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I-I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry.”

 

Freddie’s fiddling with the cuffs on his wrist and staring at the floor, avoiding Auston’s eye contact. He looks small, despite his large frame and Auston hates that something as simple as a kiss could do this.

 

“No, Fred. I should be the one to apologise.”

 

Freddie gazes up, shock on his face. “What do you mean?”

 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.” Auston says. “It was wrong of me to do that to you, and to assume that you would like me back, or that you’re into guys at all-“

 

“Aust-“

 

“I’m happy to just be your friend, Freddie. If you’ll let me.”

 

Freddie sighs deeply, and for a moment Auston’s heart drops in his chest.

 

“I love being your friend, Auston.” he says finally. “and I’m more than happy to be that for you.”

 

*

 

List Ten (Thursday)

  1. _Freddie wants to be my friend._
  2. _Freddie loves being my friend._
  3. _We won against the Bruins._
  4. _Freddie had a 34 save game._
  5. _Scored a goal and an assist._
  6. _Mitch was my winger for third period (it was lit)._



*

 

“I’m such a fucking idiot. He basically told me he liked me and I just said I’m happy to be his friend.”

 

“Fred, man, c’mon.” Connor says, patting Freddie on the back. “Just fucking ask him on a date or some shit. It’s not that big of a problem.”

 

“Yes it fucking is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates should be every couple of days while I'm on break. 
> 
> Constructive critiscism is always welcome and super appreciated :)
> 
> Thanks for sticking with it guys :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic suicide attempt coming up. Please skip this chapter if you are easily triggered.

It happens like this.

 

One minute Auston is flying higher than ever; a sea of fluffy white clouds below him and a lightness he’d only felt when he was younger. The next he’s climbing over the barriers of the Prince Edward Viaduct; fluffy white clouds replaced by the cold harsh chill of Don River instead.

 

He’s gripping the railing as tightly as he can, his knuckles growing whiter as he his brain tells him to jump and his body fights hard to resist.

 

_I want this._

_I need this._

His mind shrieks at him; loudly, high-pitched. Panicky.

 

He’s shivering all over underneath the thin long sleeved top and Auston can’t tell whether it’s from anger or the cold. Both, probably.

 

Below him, the dark waves of Don River mock him. The harsh noise of the waves lapping up against the bridge calling out to him.

 

_Join us._

_Join us Auston._

“I can do this,” Auston breathes out, resisting the urge to wipe the wetness off his face.

 

“I have to do this.”

 

His hands are sweaty and aching from gripping the railing so tightly. Aching so hard that he wants to take his hands off and let go, sweating so much that the railing’s become slippery underneath his palm.

 

“I can do this,” he says again.

 

_I can do this._

_I can do this._

_I can do this._

_I-_

_I can’t-_

Auston’s hands slip from the railing and he tries to grab the railing but it’s too late.

 

He’s falling.

 

Down.

 

Down into the cold embrace of the river below him.

 

Pain shoots through his entire body; worsened by the icy stabbing of the river.

 

Is this what death is?

 

Auston can’t tell. Can’t think.

 

His vision becomes cloudier and cloudier, the edges darkening.

 

He tries to swim upwards to take a breath. But he can’t move. And all that flows into his open mouth is salty river water that runs down into his lungs.

 

His limbs grow heavier and heavier until.

 

Until nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive critiscism is always welcome and greatly appreciated. 
> 
> As is every kudos and comment, so please say hi :)


	13. Chapter 13

*

 

The knock on the hotel room door comes at a glorious 4am. Freddie groans as the incessant knocking ceases to stop and chucks one of the spare pillows at the door.

“Fuck off, cunt.”

 

Naturally, whichever one of his teammates it is doesn’t get the memo and Mitch’s voice rings muffles throughout the door.

 

“Freddie, something’s wrong with Auston.”

 

_Auston._

Mitch’s worried tone sparks Freddie into action and the tiredness falls away; leaving worry in its place.

 

“Coming.” Freddie yells through the door as he tries to find a pair of boxers to throw on.

 

*

 

Mitch is pacing the hallway back and forth when Freddie emerges from his room. He looks pale and Freddie notices his hands are shaking; Mitch is almost unrecognisable like this. Freddie catches Mitch’s eyes and he doesn’t miss the way the younger boy sighs with relief,

 

“What happened?” Freddie asks as they make their way to Mitch and Auston’s shared room.

 

“He just started gasping in his sleep and crying, and so I woke him up but I don’t know,” Mitch rambles.

 

The door to Mitch’s room is flung wide open when they get there; the lights switched on, and there, curled up in the corner of the room, is Auston. A thick sheen of sweat covering him while he shivers; brown eyes wide open and leaking salty tears that drip down his face. Freddie makes his way over to the young forward, and slowly kneels down beside him.

 

“Auston?” Freddie asks, tentatively placing his hand on the other boys shaking arm.

 

Auston jumps, and the glaze over his eyes disappears as he turns to Freddie and recognition slowly creeps in.

 

“Fred?” Auston whispers, his breath hitching as he chokes back a sob.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I jumped.” Auston says, eyes downcast and avoiding Freddie’s gaze.

 

“What do you mean, love?”

 

“I drove to the bridge, and I-I climbed the railing and I was going to do it. I wanted to do it so, so bad. It was cold, and windy and I wanted to jump into the water. And then, I saw you Freddie.” Auston whispers, voice cracking. “I saw you and I didn’t want to jump anymore but I still did. I-I tried to hold on but I couldn’t.”

 

“Oh, love.” Freddie pulls Auston in close, wrapping his arms around him, tightly.

 

“The water was so cold, Freddie. I couldn’t breathe because every time I tried to take a breath the water would be there instead. And it hurt so fucking much, Freddie. It still hurts.” he sobs loudly into Freddie’s shoulder before he looks up at Freddie with eyes that have never looked as broken as they do now. “Why am I like this, Freddie? How could you ever like someone like me?”

 

“Auston, I like you because you are genuinely a brilliant person. You make me laugh, smile and yes, sometimes you do annoy me but I find it endearing. I don’t care that you have days where you can’t get yourself to get out of bed. I don’t care that sometimes you feel sad.”

 

“All that matters to me, is that by the end of the day I get to see you smile. That I get to talk with you, _be_ with you. I _love_ you because you make me happy. You make me worry but I love that you’re the one person who I can be myself with, and I love that you trust me enough to let me fight your demons with you. And trust me when I say that you and I are going to fight those demons. Together.”

 

Freddie pulls Auston in even closer and takes hold of his hands, kissing each knuckle and gently rubbing the space between Auston’s finger and thumb.

 

“You really mean it when you say that?” Auston says, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 

“Every word of it, love.” Freddie replies, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of Auston’s head.

 

“We’ll talk to Jean and Babs in the morning, but for now let’s get some sleep,” Freddie says, pulling Auston up and leading him to the bed.

 

It takes them all of five minutes to get settled underneath the soft hotel duvet. They’re both cuddled up together, face to face, and Freddie can still see the tear tracks down Auston’s face so he brings his hand up from underneath the duvet and wipes them away as gently as he can. It’s not like they haven’t slept like this before; they’ve spent many nights cuddled up just like this but something feels different this time. Maybe it’s the way Auston’s running his fingers through Freddie’s hair, or the way their limbs are tangled together in a way they haven’t been before.

 

Or maybe it’s the way Auston shyly presses a soft kiss to Freddie’s lips which sends a tingle throughout Freddie’s body.

 

“Night Freddie.”

 

“G’night, love.”

*

List thirty-five (Wednesday)

  1. _Freddie said he loved me._



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive critiscism is always welcome and greatly appreciated. 
> 
> As is every kudos and comment, so please say hi :)
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter - not long to go until the whole story is complete!


	14. Chapter 14

*

Auston wakes up to a face full of ginger hair that’s resting in the crevice between his shoulder and neck. Freddie’s snoring ever so quietly and as much as Auston wants to get up and drag his aching body to the shower, he can’t bring himself to disturb the man in his arms. 

So last night wasn’t a dream? 

A soft tingle makes its way up through Auston’s body and he can’t help the small smile that makes its way onto his face. He shuffles his head back ever so slightly and presses a chaste kiss to the top of Freddie’s head. 

“I love you.” he whispers into Freddie’s hair. 

“Love you too.” Freddie mumbles into Auston’s neck, his eyes slowly opening to meet Auston’s. “Are you feeling better?”

Auston sighs. The memory of last night creeping up on him. The water, the bridge and how lost and alone he felt. He sits up slowly in the bed and hangs his legs over the edge, staring at a stain on the beige carpet. 

“I-I-“ he sighs again, bringing a hand to his forehead and resting his head on his knees. He hears Freddie shuffle beside him and wrap his arms around him. 

“I take it not one hundred percent, huh.?” 

And it’s true. He should feel happy, and over the moon that Freddie’s here with him as more than a friend; here as someone who loves him. But instead there’s a tension set deep in his chest and a weight on his shoulders that not even the relief, and joy of Freddie can cover up. 

“I should be over the fucking moon, and instead I still feel sad for no fucking reason,” Auston says, finally. “I’m so fucked up.”

He feels Freddie lean into him further and rub his hand up and down Auston’s arm comfortingly, and Auston can’t help but rest his head on Freddie’s shoulder. 

“I still love you no matter what.” Freddie whispers into his ear. “Now let’s go have a shower and then we’ll call Jean, okay?”

“Okay.”

*

With the dried sweat and tears wiped fresh off his skin, Auston sits cross-legged on the floor in between Freddie’s legs. Jean’s up on the screen of his laptop, coffee in hand and a serious expression on her face. 

“I think the important thing to note, Auston, is that these instances or becoming less and less frequent.” she says, taking a sip of her coffee. “Depression doesn’t just go away straight away; it’s a slow process with its ups and downs. You’re going to have nights like these still, or days where you’re not sure how to function.”

“I know, Jean.” Auston says, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “It’s just, I’m sick of being like that; I have no reason to be sad and yet here I am, I have my dream job, I have someone who loves me, and I’m not short on money. Yet I’m still sad.”

“Depression doesn’t give you a reason to be sad, sometimes you just are and that’s okay. You’ve made some much progress in the last month or so, and you have a fabulous support network behind you to be with you every step of the way.”

 

*

“She’s right you know.” Freddie says, sliding up behind Auston.

“I know.” 

“You have Jean, and Mitch, and all the Leafs; and your family.”

“And what about you?”

“You know you’ll always have me.” Freddie whispers, turning Auston around to face him and lifting Auston’s chin up to kiss him. 

*

The charter flight leaves to head back home to Toronto at 2pm, and Auston and Freddie find themselves rushing back and forth to each other’s room trying to help each other pack their suitcases to be down at the team bus on time. The make it to the bus on time, but barely. There’s only two seats left by the time they get onto the bus, and judging by the look on Mitch’s face, Auston’s already found which one he’s sitting in. He gives one last pat on Freddie’s back as he takes the seat next to Mitch, and Freddie seats himself down next to Brownie. 

“So, that was pretty scary last night?” Mitch says quietly, leaning over to Auston. 

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that.” 

“Although, Freddie’s bed was a lot comfier than mine was.” Mitch smiles, and claps Auston on the knee. “You look a lot better today, and might I say you and Freddie are positively glowing.”

“Fucking shut up.” Auston laughs. “But I’m being deadly serious when I tell you that I’m sitting next to Freddie for the flight, yeah?”

He takes a moment to send a glare Mitch’s way, and he almost holds it for a good minute before a laugh escapes his mouth and he can no longer contain himself. Mitch’s laugh rings out next to him and soon enough they’re attracting stares from the other occupants of the bus as they sit there squished up together giggling over something their other teammates just don’t quite understand. 

Auston’s in the middle of wiping tears from his eyes when he looks up and catches Freddie’s twinkling eyes. Freddie smiles at him in the way that only Auston knows the meaning of and he takes a moment to smile back. 

Softly, and gently. 

*

His apartment building is thirty-five stories high. 

Auston’s condo sits on the tenth floor, there’s no balcony. Instead, Auston finds himself perched on the window ledge, feet dangling precariously over the edge. It’s three in the morning and despite the usually bustling street of Toronto, the world outside is dead. The streets are empty, it’s quiet, and only the occasional car will pass by. 

He’s not sure why the window opens wide enough for him to fit through but it doesn’t matter. Freddie is curled up into him and despite the warm breeze there’s a blanket thrown over both their shoulders, and their fingers laced together tightly. It’s been a bad day today; a needle in a haystack kind of day where the overwhelming need to cry over powered his need to get out of bed and look after himself. It’s a rare kind of day; they only happen every few months or so, sometimes even longer. 

It’s a day where Freddie curls up next to him under the covers for a couple of hours before pulling Auston out of bed, giving him a shower and dressing him. 

It’s a day where Auston flits in between sleeping fitfully, and watching reruns of Gossip Girl tucked underneath Freddie’s arms.

It’s a day where when the depression finally eases and Auston can breathe again; Freddie opens the window up and they cuddle underneath the stars, ten storeys high. 

“Freddie?”

“Yes, love?”

“I’m glad I called you that night.”

“Me too, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're all finished! Holy moly that was a hell of a ride!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it and I want to take a second to thank everyone who has been following this story since it was first posted as a 600 word character study. This is the longest thing I've ever written and though it's not perfect, I do hope that you found some enjoyment from reading it, as I have writing it. 
> 
> Depression is a serious illness and if you or anyone you know is suffering from it then please, please, please don't hesitate or be scared to talk to someone. Just talking to someone can help so much and being able to find a good support netwrok whether it be friends, family or a councillor - or if you feel like you can't talk to any of those people then I completely open my arms out to anyone who wishes to get anything off their chest or to just talk. I can't promise I'm a world class therapist but I am a good listener. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much for sticking with this! If you would like to have a chat or request a story you can find me on tumblr @hit-em-with-the-fourr.
> 
> And as always constructive criticism is always welcome and greatly appreciated :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of turning this into a series of introspective character studies on different players (not just Leafs), thoughts?
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


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